


Fill These Lungs

by kkeithkatt



Series: Sheith Month 2018 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Sheith Month 2018, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkeithkatt/pseuds/kkeithkatt
Summary: It took them a bit of work to get here but Shiro's thankful for every moment...Oneshot for Day 1 of Sheith Month





	Fill These Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> Trust.

The first time he meets Keith it’s 90 degrees. He can feel the sweat collecting at the collar of his uniform and he hopes the cloth doesn’t stain. He’d rather not have to scrub that out, as disgusting as it is.

The classroom he’s standing in isn’t the best. He’s been to several schools, pushed through many of them with the guiding hand of the Galaxy Garrison. He’s not foolish. He knows why they send him, why they keep sending him. The Garrison doesn’t have high recruitment records, if they’re honest with themselves, as if he’s honest with himself, he knows those numbers have spiked since he started going to schools.

He wishes those numbers were for the right reasons but, if Matt’s to be believed, most are just overzealous kids with crushes trying to catch his eyes.

He’s not oblivious enough to admit that at least a few of them were that exactly.

But this one’s different. This one hasn’t looked at him once and he’s been in this room for almost an hour so it’s pretty impressive. Whatever’s caught his eye outside must be spectacular enough that not even the free pens and hard lemon candies could get him to look away. Shame. The lemon ones are the best too.

He’s leaning against the wall by the door as the students are packing their things, ready to be dismissed. He should probably be standing at attention, or at least with his back straight, but these kids don’t care what image he has to give. They couldn’t give a single damn.

He’s been in a lot of schools but this is perhaps the poorest.

Most of the schools have active boards and fancy computers in the corner with bright, clearly painted walls and fully stocked bookshelves packed behind pristine, smooth desks. This classroom though isn’t like that. It has a chalkboard for one, something he hasn’t seen but in textbooks. There are no computers and the only bookshelf it has has maybe ten books on it total, all looking a little worse for wear.

It’s the kids that stand out though. With the exception of two of them, none of them are probably wearing new clothes. They’re rough around the edges, scowling openly at him or doodling away on the desks that are missing whole corners. A girl in the back is on her phone, smacking on some gum, and he’s pretty sure a couple is fooling around in the corner but he hasn’t tried to find out.

These aren’t the kids the Garrison actively tries to recruit. Probably not a single one of them will even remember his name when he leaves here. They won’t have the math or science skills and from the way the teacher doesn’t even seem to care, no one actually cares. He’s not sure why they’ve sent him here.

That’s a lie. The name burning into the folder in his hand is the exact reason he’s here.

The visit is a front. A doorway into the one student the Garrison actually has their eyes on. A student they are specifically recruiting.

He doesn’t know what makes the kid so special but it’s got to be a lot if it’s drawn the attention of an entire board of government and military workers.

He wonders what that kind of interest would feel like, not even knowing you’ve earned it.

The school bell rings, a dull flat chime that echoes faintly in the room. The teacher, Ms. Reynolds, bids them goodbye, reminding them of an assignment he knows nothing about, and it’s as the first pair of kids files out that she calls the name he’s memorized out.

“Keith. Stay behind please?”

To his surprise, the boy that’s been staring out the window the whole time is the one who looks her way. He’s shrugging a brown bag onto his shoulder and sighs in answer. No one looks his way, not at all curious, and when everyone’s gone, he walks up to her desk, staring at her. Waiting for an explanation but not, Shiro notices, asking for one.

She waves him over and Shiro comes. Keith darts a look his way, looking bored but curiosity spiked at least a little. He counts this as a victory. It’s the first time the kid’s looked at him all day, after all.

“Cadet Shirogane here has informed me that the Galaxy Garrison has great interest in you. Isn’t that exciting?” She seems excited enough, if not entirely confused by why the Garrison would be interested in this desert child. Shiro doesn’t comment on the fact she’s said his name wrong.

Keith doesn’t say anything either, merely looking at her. He’s still waiting it seems.

Shiro thrusts his hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Keith. I think we have a lot to talk about?” He smiles.

Keith turns to face him fully then, eyes flicking to his outstretched hand before climbing to his face. There’s an intensity there, something that makes Shiro subconsciously straighten his spine. He feels oddly intimidated but he’s sure to keep his smile warm.

Eventually, Keith reaches his own hand out and firmly shakes Shiro’s hand. For such a small kid, it’s strong and steady.

“I guess.” He says shortly. Shiro keeps smiling.

“Tell me, do you like space?”

* * *

 

He sees Keith several times after that first meeting. After explaining to him that the Garrison had somehow seen his records and that they know what he can do with a hoverbike and are thus greatly interested in him for their piloting track, Keith seems to warm up to him. Just a little though. He at least listens to what he is saying.

He doesn’t know much about Keith. For the most part, their interactions have been in the library of the school, Shiro helping the boy with his coursework. His grades are stellar but he hasn’t been taught all the things the Garrison ideally wishes it’s cadets to already know before they get there so he’s taken to tutoring him, giving him lessons in things his school couldn’t even afford to. He doesn’t seem to mind the extra homework, as he never complains and seems to actually enjoy what he’s learning. Shiro finds it refreshing to have someone around that not only cares about what is being taught but loves it.

It’s during one of these lessons that the first crack breaks.

The lesson hasn’t started yet. Shiro is sitting in a chair, twiddling with his pen. Keith’s late, something that’s never happened before. He doesn’t worry much about that though. Sometimes people are late, for several reasons. He doesn’t fault him.

It’s when twenty minutes past that he begins to wonder. That he begins to worry.

When the thirty minute mark has come and gone, he’s shoved all his things back into his bag, ready to give up and hope to see him in a week. It’s around then that Keith comes bustling into the room, backpack in one hand. He throws himself into the chair, breathing hard, apologizing.

Shiro’s not listening though. He’s too busy looking at him.

Keith has a split lip and bloody knuckles. His hand is a mess and dirt covers his cheeks. The skin under his eye looks like it’s starting to bruise.

“What happened?” He interrupts the apologies still sprouting from his mouth. Keith shuts up immediately, drawing in on himself and avoiding Shiro’s eyes. He’s looking at his shoes and is now silent, such a great contrast from a second ago.

“Keith.” He says sternly, so much so that he looks up, a little startled. He softens his voice. “What happened?”

His mouth pinches, face scrunching up and jaw clenching. “Nothing.” he mumbles.

“Please don’t lie to me. Not about this.”  
He shoots him a confused frown but goes back to looking at his feet. Shiro elects to explain anyway.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. Not about your family or your friends or hell even your dreams. You don’t owe me anything, Keith. But please don’t lie to me when I know something happened. That something hurt you.”

He doesn’t look up but Shiro can see the way Keith shrinks in on himself, making his body small but releasing a breath at the same time. He’s listening now, he knows.

“I just want to help.” He whispers.

Keith flicks his eyes up, dark blue irises wide and vulnerable in a way he’s never seen them before.

“Okay.” He swallows. “Okay.”

Shiro nods. “Okay.”

* * *

 

The call comes in the middle of the night.

It’s a number he doesn’t recognize but he’s thankful that he answers it anyway when Keith’s voice echoes through.

He gave him his number months ago, when they first started their lessons together. Keith had told him he’d never use it and Shiro had believed him. Keith hadn’t proven himself wrong either, not once calling him. Until now.

He’s fearful of why that’s suddenly changed.

“Shiro?” Keith gasps into the phone, tiny and frail. He’s never thought those words in relation to the boy he’s come to consider a friend.

“Keith?” He was asleep minutes ago but you couldn’t tell it from the way he speaks. He’s already shoving jeans on. “Keith what’s wrong?”  
“I-” He hiccups. “Shiro, I messed up. I’m so sorry.”

He yanks a shirt on, struggling to keep the phone pressed to his ear as he does so. “Hey. Hey it’s okay, Keith. Tell me what happened.”

Keith doesn’t. He just apologizes again, voice rough and scratchy and it hits Shiro then that he’s been crying this whole time.

He’s out the door, shoes barely on, keys in hand. “Where are you? Keith _please_.”

Keith sniffles. “The church.”

“I’ll be right there.” He says immediately.

 

The church is about thirty minutes from him and ten from Keith’s school. It’s an old white building with stained glass windows. It’s exactly like what he always though a good christian church would look like.

It’s the last place he can see Keith going to.

But there he is, sitting on the steps, arms shoved into the inside of his jacket, wrapped tightly around his middle.

Shiro approaches him slowly and sits down next to him. He doesn’t budge, not even as Shiro looks over him in the pale lighting. He’s got a black eye and a giant bruise on his cheek. Tear tracks stain his skin and he’s shivering in his pajamas, which are at least two sizes too big for him. He has no shoes and Shiro wonders how long it took him to walk here. A while, if the state of his feet have are anything to judge by,

They don’t speak for a while. He simply elects to sit by him as Keith draws out little sniffles and coughs, still huddled in on himself. He doesn’t know what to do in this situation. He’s never had to do this, never had to deal with a kid like Keith before. He’s so far above his head here but he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. The thought alone makes him ache.

In the end, he’s the one that breaks the silence.

“I messed up.”

“It’ll be okay.” He says. “We’ll figure it out.”

He doesn’t know what Keith thinks he messed up on. He has an idea, and he hopes it’s wrong, but he doesn’t think it is, especially as Keith sobs a little harder.

“Don’t make me go back.” He chokes out, fisting his hands into the red lining.

His chest burns. “I won’t.”

He can’t keep that promise. He knows he can’t, that there’s no way he could make sure, that he could guarantee it, but if he can, he’ll do it. He’ll try his hardest.

* * *

 

Keith fidgets restlessly next to him and he laughs.

“Come on, we talked about this. You’ve got this.” He’s confident in what he says. He truly believes in it and he knows, past all his nerves, that Keith does too.

He doesn’t right now though and he huffs at him. “Just because you think I’m something special doesn’t mean everyone else does, Shiro.”

He snorts. “Keith. The Garrison personally recruited you. They _know_ you’re special already.”

He can see him blush but in typical Keith fashion he says nothing. He’s no going to admit anything.

“They could’ve changed their minds.” He says instead.

“Doubtful.”

“They could’ve.”  
“They didn’t.” He knows this for a fact. Commander Kuisch asks about Keith almost weekly. Iverson even asked about him. He doesn’t tell Keith this though. It’s not what he really wants to hear.

“Hey.” He places a hand on his shoulder. Keith jumps a little, not expecting it even though he’s done this a few times now. He looks up at him, eyes big and face open. “You’re going to do great.”

They’ve been studying for months, preparing for the entrance exams the Garrison has every July. They’re difficult but he’s smart, extraordinary though. And Shiro knows he’s going to shine, not as much as he will when they take him through the PT tests and flight simulator once he’s inevitably passed. But shine he will.

Keith smiles, soft and tiny but honest. “Thanks Shiro.”

He grins. “Anytime.”

* * *

 

He’s laughing into his hand as he sets his fork down.

“Oh my god,” he snickers, shoulders shaking a little “that’s fucking terrible.”

Keith snorts from his spot across from him. “It’s clearly burnt, Shiro.”  
He laughs even harder than that. “No, no it’s burnt on the outside. The inside is cold.”  
Keith looks at him doubtfully. “What? That makes no sense.”

He nods, grinning. “I swear, try it.”

He looks even more doubtful then and honestly he can’t blame him. “No! I’m not eating that! You literally almost died from one bite.”

Shiro thinks that’s a bit of a stretch though it was really bad so he supposes Keith could be a little close to accurate. “Come on,” He drags out, picking up his fork. “This is a date, Keith. Have some fun.”  
His cheeks heat up a little at the word date (which, if he’s being honest, his are too) (he’s on a date!) (with Keith!) (Keith!). He’s smiling fondly when he replies though. “I’ve already had plenty of fun though.”

Feeling a bit warm and happy, he avoids giggling. He’s already a bit of a disaster. Keith doesn’t need to see him embarrass himself anymore than he has already. “Fine. Live a little then.”

He laughs, shaking his head. His hair whips at little at the end and he smiles. “Oh I already did when I let you cook.”

He pouts, feigning insult.

Keith only laughs a little louder. He gestures a hand at the food. “Shiro! Look at it!”

Despite himself, he does laugh a little too. It really is sad.

An idea pops in his head and he smirks. “Alright. Be that way. I _dare_ you to eat it.” Keith looks at him sharply and already he can feel the heat of the glare. “ _All of it._ ”

He’s scowling heavily, teeth pulled taut over his lip. “I hate you.” He feels satisfaction as he pulls the plate closer to himself, viciously snatching the fork out of his hand. Keith could never pass on a dare.

He turns his chin into his hand, settling it. “Don’t you trust me?” He smiles.

He pauses, fork loaded with the atrocity Shiro calls dinner, and blinks, looking at Shiro as if he were an idiot .

“Of course I do.”

He then shoves the fork in his mouth and almost immediately backtracks, spewing curses as he spits it everywhere. Shiro laughs, slipping out of his chair as he tries to get some control over himself and ultimately giving up on it.

Yeah. Yeah he supposes it was a bit obvious.


End file.
